LOS ANGELES, CA: When Eliza Dullnom, 22, decided to enter the world of adult entertainment last year, she faced the same conundrum as all performers in her field: choosing a stage name.

“Whatever you choose, it’s got to be something that sticks in people’s heads,” she says, recounting her decision-making process by phone. “So, do I use my real name and lose all privacy? Do I use my first name and some random surname that sounds plausible? Do I mash up the names of a couple stars who are already famous so I can ride their coattails and pop up in searches for them online? Or do I just go the dirty-pun route?”

Faced with such endless choices, Dullnom decided to do an about-face and go another route altogether.

“At this point, it’s sort of like band names,” she muses. “All the simple ones are taken. Now you have to pull two or three random words out of a hat and come up with something completely nonsensical to stand out. Like Maroon 5 or Vampire Weekend. What the hell do those even mean?”

And so Dullnom went about stringing together various words and names until she settled on one particular arrangement that pleased her. Her colleagues in the industry, however, expressed puzzlement over her final choice.

But this far into 2016’s Presidential primary season, it looks like this forward-thinking entrepreneur may have been on to something. Now that she’s performing under the stage name Howto Movetocanada, her visibility online has increased exponentially over the past few months, and positively skyrocketed following last week’s Super Tuesday results.

Google confirms that searches for “Howto Movetocanada” began trending shortly after polls closed on Super Tuesday. Then, as results began to show Donald Trump to be the undisputed winner of the night, with Sen. Ted Cruz trailing in second, the number of searches jumped by 350%. By midnight, that number spiked again, by a staggering 1500%.

"I was in an In-N-Out Burger the other day, and everyone looked up and froze, French fries dangling out of their mouths, mayo dripping from their burgers. Not just husbands–wives, too. Even with my neighbors, it's the same. I've lived in the same complex for a couple years now, and so have a lot of the other people here, but now, whenever I leave my apartment, they all do doubletakes, like they've never seen me before.”

As for her own plans in the voting booth, Dullnom is divided. “I’m a Democrat all the way,” she says. But traffic on her website has only increased with Trump and Cruz’s respective victories after Super Tuesday.

“I’ve changed my affiliation and registered as Republican just so I can vote for Trump in the primary here in June,” admits Dullnom. “After that, I don’t know. I feel conflicted about it, but these fools are such a Godsend. Or at least for me they are. If Trump or even Cruz manages to win the general election, I mean, wow, I could really cash out on that, you know? Forget Canada–I could afford to move anywhere I want and live in total luxury.”

CABOT COVE, ME–Local, state, and federal authorities are on the manhunt for two male suspects wanted in connection to the grisly slaying of mystery writer and resident celebrity, Jessica Fletcher.

Fletcher's body was discovered early Saturday morning in her home at 698 Candlewood Lane. Although she was the victim of multiple injuries and sustained at least three gunshots, preliminary reports from the County Coroner's Office indicate that cause of death was a stab wound to the chest.

Forensic teams recovered a total of four shotgun shells from the crime scene. However, their placement and other evidence suggest that the attack on Fletcher began outside her home, where all four shots were fired. Her attackers then pursued her into the house.

The County Coroner's Office has determined that Fletcher was struck by at least three shots before fleeing indoors. One official requesting anonymity explained, "The shells appear to have been loaded with rock salt. Hurts like hell, but non-lethal."

Once inside, Fletcher suffered an attack of "extreme violence," according to the same source. "The whole house is in total disarray. Everything's tossed this way and that. Even the furniture. And not just scooted aside or knocked over. Looks like stuff just flew across the room."

Fletcher was discovered on her back in the kitchen, where she appeared to have collapsed to the floor after incurring the fatal stab wound. She also displayed several defensive wounds, as well as a broken nose, indicating a violent struggle before suffering the mortal blow.

SUSPECTS AT LARGESheriff Andy Broom has released images of the two lead suspects in the case. Those images were captured by security cameras at the Sheriff's Office days before the attack on Fletcher.

At present, the two are only wanted for questioning in regard to Fletcher's murder. No evidence links them directly to the crime. However, arrest warrants have been issued against both men for impersonating federal agents in the days beforehand.

"They identified themselves as Agents Jovi and Sambora of the FBI," Sheriff Broom shared in a press conference. "They claimed to be investigating the Alice Kavanagh case."

Alice Kavanagh, another resident of Cabot Cove, was also found murdered in her home, one week before the attack on Fletcher.

When asked if the two cases were linked, Sheriff Broom said, "That's certainly a possibility. As of now we have no evidence to suggest that these two suspects had anything to do with Ms. Kavanagh's killing, or if they were even in town at that time, but assuming that they were in town and involved, that certainly would have put Ms. Fletcher in the crosshairs."

Local reporters laughed knowingly at the sheriff's remark. "Ms. Fletcher has solved more murders in this town than me and my deputies combined," Broom then explained to outside press.

"The Kavanagh case is still open," he continued, "but the last I saw of those two 'agents' was last Friday, the day before Ms. Fletcher's murder. Inquiries made to the FBI have since revealed that there are no Agents Jovi and Sambora in their employ."

MURDER, SHE LIVEDJessica Fletcher is best known as the prolific novelist J.B. Fletcher, whose bestselling mysteries include such titles as The Triple Crown Murders and The Crypt of Death.

In addition to spinning tales of murder, she also assisted local police in solving many real-life homicides, both here in Cabot Cove and New York City, where she maintained a second residence while teaching criminology at Manhattan University.

"Not just here and New York City," clarified Cabot Cove resident Ethan Cragg. "Everywhere she went. The woman couldn't book a flight without signing someone's death warrant at the other end. She went to visit family in Ireland, boom, someone dropped dead. She went to Hollywood to sign a movie deal, boom, somebody dropped dead. The Fletchers threw a family reunion, boom, a Fletcher dropped dead."

Multiple police departments throughout the U.S. confirmed that Ms. Fletcher acted as a consultant in many investigations.

"'Consult' is a soft way to put it," said Grady Fletcher, nephew to the victim as well as her legal ward as a child. "She solved those cases, through and through, often investigating them independently until she could convince the authorities that she was on the right track. Too often she put herself right in harm's way. Cops who wouldn't believe a word she said at first were all too quick to then use her as bait to draw the perp out while they hid in the next room. That's not consulting. That's doing the cops' job for them."

CABOT COVE: MAINE'S MAJESTIC SEASIDE MURDER CAPITOL OF THE WORLDCabot Cove has seen more than its fair share of homicides over the years. In fact, FBI statistics have determined this quaint seaside town to be the murder capitol of the United States.

Two percent of residents are murdered here per year. Even more visitors to the area meet a fatal end during their stay. Locals have even come to refer to this troubling trend as "Cabot Cove syndrome."

Although the town has maintained a steady population of roughly 3,500, that figure has been constantly replenished by prospective homebuyers drawn to this picturesque coastal community from elsewhere. "It's actually kind of a goldmine for me," admits local real estate agent Eve Simpson. "Homeowners get killed all the time. Surviving families move away, new families move in, someone offs the new owner. It's like a revolving door. I have some properties that I've sold two or three times over."

Former Sheriff Mort Metzger agrees that the murder rate here is astounding. "Every other week we had a fresh stiff on our hands," he shared by phone from his home in Nyack, New York, where he retired. "When I took that job, I thought the most I'd have on my plate were bar brawls, maybe some vehicular manslaughter now and again, wintertime burglaries in summer houses. But I investigated more violent crime there than when I was with the NYPD. And mind you, I worked New York back in the seventies and eighties."

A DARK LEGACYAlthough Ms. Fletcher initially enjoyed accolades for her help in solving most if not all of Cabot Cove's murders, that legacy has since grown tarnished by rumors, worries, and suspicions.

Ethan Cragg, local fishermen, said, "Look, Jessica was a friend of mine. A good friend. But I'm a fishermen, and, well, we're a superstitious lot. And after a while I couldn't help noticing a trend. Jessica traveled a lot. And like I said, wherever she went, someone met a nasty end. But while she was away, things round here, they got quiet again. Peaceful. No trouble, no bodies, no murder."

This trend was noticed by other residents. "Some folks think she was the real killer," confirmed Loretta Speigel, hairdresser and gossip. "Not me," she quickly clarified, "but some."

Former Sheriff Metzger also refuted that claim. "I've heard that one. I even considered it. Not because I believed what folks were saying, but just to see if it held water. But it doesn't. Too many times she had a perfectly good alibi for when the crime was committed. Sometimes she was even with me."

This has not daunted others in town from believing that Ms. Fletcher had at least some involvement with the killings. Resident Eric Colt, who would only describe himself as a "hunter," spins a particularly dark theory. "There's a lot in this world you take for granted," he said in his home on the outskirts of Cabot Cove. "Especially what you think ain't in this world. Because there's a whole lot of nasties prowling around out there that you'd rather think were just make-believe. Me, I've seen all kinds of things. I'm talking vamps and werewolves. Reapers. Shape-shifters. Witches and demons. I don't think Ms. Fletcher need've necessarily pulled the trigger to be the one responsible for all them murders."

THEORIES AND BELIEVERSIt is easy to discount Mr. Colt's claims. Unmarried and childless, he lives alone in a ramshackle house littered by liquor bottles. Many in town are quick to dismiss him as a drunk and a crank. And yet, while his fellow citizens scoff at the possible existence of vampires and werewolves, Mr. Colt's comments about Ms. Fletcher in particular seem to have caught on, at least partially.

No less an ardent supporter of Ms. Fletcher than former Sheriff Metzger concurs that her power of influence was considerable. "I have no doubt that we always caught the right guy. But honestly, I'm kind of shocked none of them beat the case we built against them. We'd lure the suspect out, Ms. Fletcher would give them this disapproving look, and these guys would just spill everything, confess it all, just like that. And I'd arrest them. These were all verbal confessions, mind you, and we hardly ever thought to record them. And half the time, if Ms. Fletcher had any evidence at all, it was purely circumstantial. But I'd arrest them, on her word alone. Even though any down-on-his-luck public defender at the end of his road could have torn a hole a mile wide in our case. I used to sweat bullets at night in between the arrest and the trial. No way would the jury buy our story. But then I'd see Ms. Fletcher up there in the witness box, and suddenly everything seemed alright again. I knew the jury would come back with a verdict of guilty. And they did, always. No one ever walked."

Even current Sheriff Broom admitted that, in retrospect, he is quite surprised by the open-door policy shown to Ms. Fletcher by his office in the past. "Every crime scene was contaminated pretty much from the start. No one ever barred her entry. So much of what we found shouldn't have been admissible in court just because of that. But she'd show up, and we'd wave her right under the tape, without even thinking about it, like it was procedure."

Mr. Colt pointed to both Sheriffs' remarks. "You might think we're all rubes up here, but we're not. Just look at Metzger. This guy was a city cop before he came up here, with the press and the mayor and the ACLU and everyone else hovering over his back every time he snapped the cuffs on some kid for tagging up a subway car. And up here, his constituents drop like flies. He has no shortage of experience working homicide cases. And yet this . . . woman, if you want to call her that, she shows up, and with a tap on his shoulder, a whisper in his ear, this guy's bending to her will, doing whatever she says. Like I said, I don't think she ever needed to get her hands dirty by pulling the trigger herself."

He then recommended interviewing Metzger's predecessor, former Sheriff Amos Tupper. This proved difficult. When Sheriff Tupper moved away from Cabot Cove upon retirement, he left a forwarding address in Kentucky, but further investigation revealed that he actually moved to Chicago, Illinois, where he changed his name to Frank Dowling and joined the Catholic priesthood.

Despite the change in office, he appeared to spend a great deal of time following his old vocation: solving violent crimes. Sister Stephanie Oskowski of St. Michael's Parish, over which Father Dowling presided, informed us that Dowling met a grisly end pursuing one such case about four years after joining the diocese. The Chicago Police Department confirmed that the case Dowling was investigating as well as that of his own murder remained unsolved.

"The original vic went missing three years before his body turned up in an alleyway on the South Side," a spokesperson from the CPD shared. "Family man, good citizen, no record. Just up and disappeared. According to the report, there was an eyewitness to his murder, but he was deemed unreliable. Homeless, possible mental issues, blood alcohol level of 0.3. Said he saw the vic chase another guy–bearded, trucker's cap, vest–into the alley, but then froze, as if trapped. The other guy supposedly strolled back up, said some Latin mumbo-jumbo, and then this jet of black smoke shot out of the vic's mouth, and the vic dropped dead. Apparently, officers on the scene did find the body lying on top of this weird satanic-looking graffiti spray-painted on the ground, but the autopsy showed he'd actually been dead for some time, of multiple gunshot wounds. Not sure how the body was preserved so well for so long before it was finally dumped there, but obviously this was a dump of some kind."

Father Dowling's body was found a week later in the same alley. The same eyewitness to the first murder claimed to witness Dowling's, too. According to his statement, Dowling ran into the alley with his attacker in pursuit, in the same fashion as the unidentified "trucker" in the previous incident. This time the pursuer stopped short of the graffiti, snapped his fingers, rematerialized behind Father Dowling, and slit Dowling's throat. The attacker then bled Dowling by his jugular into a goblet or chalice, stirred the blood with his finger while incanting, and proceeded to address it as "Lilith" in a one-sided conversation that lasted some minutes.

While the CPD has thoroughly discounted the eyewitness's testimony, Sister Oskowski believes it. "When Father Dowling first came to us, when I first began assisting his investigations, the results were . . . I hate to use the word "normal," but they were. Horrible crimes committed by humdrum human culprits. But toward the end, we saw some stuff. Weird stuff. Devils-and-angels sort of stuff. These things are real. Just like I told Agents Jovi and Sambora when they called asking the same questions about a week ago."

UNORTHODOX QUESTIONSSister Oskowski confirmed that "Jovi" and "Sambora" identified themselves as FBI agents investigating a homicide in Dowling's former jurisdiction back when he was Sheriff Tupper. She also confirmed that the two asked her several questions about Jessica Fletcher.

"I'll tell you what I told them," she said. "I'd heard of J.B. Fletcher, but only because of her books. I read a few of them. And now that I think of it, Father Dowling always gave them kind of a dirty look whenever he saw me with one. But he never said anything about having known her."

Several residents of Cabot Cove, as well as Sheriff Broom, also claim that "Jovi" and "Sambora" showed interest in Ms. Fletcher.

"Ayuh," answered Ethan Cragg. "They said they heard I knew her, wanted to know if anything about her struck me as strange. I told them the same I told you, that we were friends, ayuh, but I couldn't help but notice that the death toll dropped to nada whenever she'd skip off to New York or some other place."

"Their questions were weird from the get-go, even before they started zeroing in on Ms. Fletcher," said Sheriff Broom. "Had we noticed any cold spots? Found any hex bags? Smelled any sulphur? The whole town reeks of sulphur, but what's that got to do with anything?"

Hairdresser Loretta Speigel appeared particularly upset over the matter. "They asked if I ever noticed anything weird about her. Anything off. And I said yes. But I told them I wasn't sure of what I saw. I absolutely stressed that really it must have been me seeing things wrong. Imagining it all. But there was this one time, when I was doing her hair, and I looked up at her reflection in the mirror, and I swear, before she blinked, it looked like her eyes were totally black. You don't think those two took that heart, do you?"

Authorities ask for the public's help in locating the two suspects. "While they were here, they were seen driving a '67 Chevy Impala," Sheriff Broom said. "We have reason to believe that this is their own vehicle and not just a hot car. While they were here at the Sheriff's Office, a deputy dinged the Impala's side when he opened the door to his own vehicle. The man who identified himself as Agent Jovi appeared visibly upset by this. He kept stroking the dent and calling the Impala 'Baby.' This leads me to believe that the vehicle was his own and rather precious to him."

The revival of The X-Files premiering this weekend on FOX has generated renewed interest in the series' original nine-season run.

However, not everyone is grateful for all that extra attention.

Special Agent Dana Scully has recently come under fire for an offhand remark made in Episode 5 of the show's fourth season–a remark that has, upon review, struck some viewers as shockingly callous.

The episode in question, "The Field Where I Died," involves Scully and her partner, Special Agent Fox Mulder, assisting an FBI task force as they investigate a religious sect for weapons possession and child abuse. Further investigation into the sect's members also reveals the possibility of spiritual reincarnation.

When the two agents learn that their respective souls have been intrinsically linked throughout the ages, Mulder asks Scully, "If early in the four years we've been working together ... somebody told you that we'd been friends together in other lifetimes, always, would it have changed some of the ways we looked at one another?"

In response, Scully assures hims, "Even if I knew for certain, I wouldn't change a day." Then, reconsidering, she adds lightheartedly, "Well, maybe that flukeman thing. I could have lived without that just fine."

Although the episode in question premiered nearly twenty years ago, it does not belong to the show's larger "mythology" arc, nor does it stand out as much as other stand-alone episodes. And so, while fan-favorites such as "Bad Blood" or "Jose Chung's From Outer Space" continue to enjoy heavy rotation in syndication, "The Field Where I Died" has largely faded from the public's mind since its original airdate, and Scully's response to Mulder's query has been widely forgotten until now.

But with the original series now trending heavily on Netflix and other platforms in anticipation of the revival's debut, "The Field Where I Died" and Scully's comments therein have ignited a belated backlash.

And–in a bizarre twist that is only fitting for a show that dealt so consistently with the weird and paranormal–many of those offended by Agent Scully's flippant attitude in S4E5 belong to a surprising camp: nearly all of the Dana Scullys from the episodes that preceded it.

Speaking from a high containment facility in Winthrop, Washington, Agent Scully from S1E20 ("Darkness Falls") was taken aback when she heard her future self dismissing her own current plight. "I woke up this morning cocooned by flesh-eating insects," she informed us in a phone interview after watching Season 4's inflammatory episode. "Now I'm stuck in quarantine for God knows how long. I'm just sitting here binge-watching TV, trying not to climb the walls. And I hear her say that, and I'm like, really? What I'm going through right now is a fun memory for you?"

Dana Scully from S1E13 ("Beyond the Sea") was even more affronted. "My dad actually passed away this week," she confessed. "And, you know, that alone has been pretty tough to handle. We had some unresolved issues that obviously are going to stay that way forever now, and, well, yeah–it's been tough. But on top of that, my partner and I have been working a case involving this Wormtongue-looking psychopath who happens to be psychic, and he's really been getting into my head, manipulating me, channelling my dad, then holding him back for ransom . . . It's really made the grieving process a lot tougher than it should be."

Would she personally like to see her present circumstances changed? "Yes. Definitely," she immediately responded. "I mean, even if my dad still has to go, I'd definitely prefer being able to mourn him privately without some serial killer using his death to mess with my head.

When we attempted to interview an audibly upset Agent Scully at home shortly after her return from Season 2's Episodes 5 through 8 story-arc, she screamed through her intercom, "I JUST GOT ABDUCTED BY ALIENS AND/OR MY OWN FUCKING GOVERNMENT! NOW GET YOUR THUMB OFF MY BUZZER AND WALK THE FUCK AWAY!"

But perhaps the most surprised by Scully's remarks in "The Field Where I Died" is Scully from S2E2: the infamous "flukeman" incident. "I mean, it looked pretty gross," Scully admitted from her faculty office at the FBI Academy at Quantico. "But it was safely contained when I personally saw it. I was never in any danger. I pretty much stayed here in the lab for the whole case. Honestly, as far as working with Mulder goes, and all the stuff we've seen and done together, this week was pretty stress-free for me. I'm not even on active duty right now. I'm just teaching here at Quantico. My biggest headache at the moment is baking all these cookies for my students so they won't trashtalk me when they fill out their evaluations at the end of the semester. Female professors have it pretty tough."

"But not that tough," she quickly clarified. "I'd much rather have to do that than live with this constant paranoia. It's only growing worse. I can't borrow a pen anymore without wondering if it's bugged, or tracking my movements, or both. That's not a healthy frame of mind. I'd like to be able to trust people again."

After a moment's pause, she asked, "Who is this again? Who exactly are you working for?"

[Read the comments for further reactions to Dana Scully from even more Dana Scullys.]

So, it's been a month since we all saw The Force Awakens. And believe me, I'm not here to disparage; it was definitely a fun time at the theater.

But I'm curious as to why everyone's raving about it. Or maybe that's the wrong way to put it. I guess I understand why. The prequels left a really foul aftertaste in everyone's mouth, and this new entry in the Star Wars saga has certainly cleansed my palate.

I guess I just want to know why everyone raves about this particular sequel but still poops all over me.

I mean, I get it: I'm not T2. I'll never be T2. T2 was awesome. It's still awesome. It'll never cease to be awesome. It wasn't just a kickass sequel, but a kickass movie in its own right that elevated the original retroactively. Let's face it: we wouldn't be talking about that first one today if it hadn't been for T2. T1 is really nothing more than a Halloween knockoff with a sci-fi veneer. I'm not trying to offend the film that spawned us all; I'm just agreeing with the inarguable fact that T2 was the highwater mark in our own franchise.

So, again, I get it: I'm not T2. Never was, never will be. I've had to live with that fact all my life. And it hasn't been easy. Right from the start, everyone poo-pooed me, and that hurt. And then, as if that wasn't enough, every outing that followed flat-out ignored me. Pretended I never happened. Retconned me, as they say in the trade.

I tried to get over it. And to be honest, I felt like I was almost there. But then one Saturday night in December I went to see The Force Awakens. And as we all left the theater afterward, I had to endure overhearing everyone else praising it to no apparent end. Oh sure, each audience member had this little quibble or that little nitpick, but, overall, consensus was: they loved it.

So why does everyone still loathe me?

We share so many of the same qualities. Male hero facing an existential crisis? Check. Female hero plucked from obscurity to possibly lead the resistance against oppressive regimes? Check. Original cast returning to beloved roles? Check. Fast-paced action? Lots of jokes? All of them crammed into a tried-and-true template lifted straight from its predecessors? Check, check, and check.

Like I said, I'm not here to poo-poo J.J. & Co. I had fun watching what they had spent so much time and love crafting. But let's be honest: what they crafted was a retread of previous installments (specifically the ones people actually liked), only everything here was BIGGER, BADDER, FASTER! Thought the Death Star was impressive, did ya? Well, just wait till you get a load of the STARKILLER! Thought the Sith Lord who managed his anger by quietly choking incompetent subordinates with his mind was pretty intimidating, eh? Well, check out this guy throwing a hissyfit with a lightsaber! You don't want to be in the same room as that guy on a bad day, am I right?

Again, that's cool, I dig it. I did the same thing. You thought the first Terminator to come back in time was pretty scary, and then your mind was effing blown away by the T-1000, so what did I do? That's right: I lumped the two together and added a flamethrower to boot. You thought that semi-truck/motorcycle chase in the first act of T2 was tense? Hell, I'll sick an even BIGGER truck on John Connor's ass AND a half-dozen other nano-controlled vehicles, besides. Whatever factors you dig, I'll up: that was my motto.

But you know what? I wasn't just playing it safe so you'd like me for all the same reasons that you liked T2. I anticipated your expectations. Here's another by-the-numbers sequel, they'll say, so I might as well play to them. Lull everyone into a false confidence that I'm exactly what I appear to be: a bigger, louder repeat of all that came before. Feed them exactly what they expect to be fed and fatten them up until they're stuffed too full to even remember what my subtitle is, and then flip everything on its head: ta-da!

My only real fault was playing bait-and-switch too well. I set out to play a joke on the audience, but the joke was on me; turns out, 109 minutes is way too long of a build-up for a single punchline. Most people I talk to seem to have either tuned out or walked out well before then.

Just do me a favor: if you like The Force Awakens, give me a second chance. And to really make things fair, watch Genisys before you do. Because, honestly, if Episodes I, II, and III hadn't already shown us just how far a beloved franchise could sink, we wouldn't be half as pleased with Episode VII as we think we are.

Six months ago, I quit my job in New York and moved south to Texas. What better way, I thought, to celebrate this respite from 50-hour workweeks than to crack open a book that tops out at more than just 200 pages? And what better one to hit the road with on a cross-country journey than The Stand?

I hadn't touched the King in almost twenty years, and the greatest joy I gleaned from this return was from all the contact-highs that came with certain passages: Remember Mrs. Moore catching you reading this chapter under your desk instead of paying attention to class? Remember putting your bookmark right here, at this page, so you could play Desert Island with Carillo and Jacobus and everyone else on the school bus on our drive up to Liberty State Park for that field trip?

Except it wasn't exactly right here, at this very page, because somewhere along the way I jettisoned all those original paperbacks, so sure that I'd never touch them again . . . and so, on my way out the door of the Strand Bookstore, I used my employee discount one last time to pick up a new edition. But now, like a cocaine fiend jonesing for a purer cut, I felt denied a cleaner high: just imagine the total clarity that would have come from sticking your nose in between those original pages and snorting up that old-book smell . . .

Now, as my respite draws to a close and the job search here in Texas has begun, I'm bookending the experience with another King tome, Needful Things. When I first picked it up, I felt the same disappointment at being stuck with a newer edition instead of the one I first thumbed.

Then I actually cracked it open and started reading.

If you've ever read it yourself, you'll appreciate how it cooled my jets in regards to coveting things past.

]]>Mon, 11 Jan 2016 16:00:45 GMThttp://www.werewolvesofjersey.com/blah-blah-blog/may-the-hustle-be-with-meHello all. It’s 2016, and my resolution this year is to keep this site a tad more active and viable than it has been . . . as if that hasn’t been a resolution for so many years past. So we’ll see how that goes.

But one new development that may work in my favor this time around is that I’m currently unemployed, by choice, thanks to the grace and good will of a supportive wife. Time is and always has been the main obstacle–that, and a crippling sense of responsibility. But I’ve finally paid off that student loan that Mom and Dad made the mistake of co-signing back when the terms “Clinton” and “President” brought to mind Bill instead of Hil, and now that the wife and I have put the money-sucking vortex that is New York City behind us, a single income will get us by for now, so, for the moment, I’m free to indulge the artistic streak that I’ve had to put on hold for so long.

Although that is perhaps unfair to said streak. As I’ve spent the last few months looking back over my output of the last few years, I’ve found I’ve churned out more than I thought. Some of it’s crap, all of it’s rough, but at least it shows that I managed throughout to squeeze writing in between all of the eating, sleeping, and working; the husbandly duties and the doggy-daddy ones; the daily chores, daily commutes, and daily this-and-that’s . . .

The one thing I could never quite fit into that equation was the Hustle. But so many of the above excuses no longer apply. It’s time to get it all out there.​God help this introvert.]]>